Paint it Black

"This has to be the worst idea I have ever heard!"

The tension in the room was palpable as Natasha paced back and forth, her fingers drumming against her thigh. Her sharp eyes darted between Steve and James, both sitting too comfortably for her liking.

"No. No, Steve! That has to be the worst idea I have ever heard." She stopped, crossing her arms as she shook her head in disbelief.

Steve leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms too, but with a smirk. "Why? Because it was my idea?" He chuckled, the sound far too light for the subject matter.

"Can you blame her?" James interjected, not bothering to look up from the file in front of him. "You've had some pretty terrible fucking ideas." His laugh was low, a quiet mockery of Steve's confidence.

Natasha shot Bucky a look, her lips pursed, before she turned her attention back to Steve. "You want to hire Lexi? To do what? Be Bucky's beard? I don't understand." She unfolded her arms, taking a seat in front of James's desk, her annoyance obvious as she tried to piece together the insanity she was hearing.

"There's more to her than meets the eye, Nat. She could be useful to us," Steve replied smoothly, sitting forward. His grin hadn't faltered, and that was enough to irritate her more.

Natasha arched an eyebrow, turning her attention to Bucky, who was still flipping through the file he had requested Clint compile on Lexi. "Buck, you're on board with this?" she asked, her tone dripping with skepticism.

James finally shut the file, closing his laptop with a soft click. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his chin as if considering how best to phrase it. "She has... something. I can't quite put my finger on it."

Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Something?"

James' gaze hardened slightly, locking onto hers. "Besides, rumors say this rival mafia is run by a woman. We could train Lexi. She could be our in."

Natasha stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious or just falling for some gut feeling. When she glanced back at Steve, his shit-eating grin was impossible to ignore. He was enjoying this far too much.

"Fuck, fine!" Natasha threw her hands up, the frustration evident as she stood from the chair, adjusting her leather jacket. "But if this goes bad, it's on you two. I'm not cleaning up that fucking mess."

Without another word, she turned sharply on her heel, stalking toward the door. Before she could reach it, James' voice cut through the air one last time.

"Don't worry, Nat. I've got a good feeling about this."

She paused for a fraction of a second, rolling her eyes before exiting his office, muttering something under her breath that James was sure wasn't a compliment.

Steve sat back in his chair, fingers tapping absentmindedly on the armrest. His eyes flickered to Bucky, who was lounging across from him, looking far too relaxed given the circumstances.

"You heard from Sam yet?" Steve asked, his voice low but laced with the kind of concern he could never fully shake.

James glanced over, then bent his neck from side to side, cracking it with a satisfied sigh. "Not yet," he replied, kicking his feet up on the desk and crossing them at the ankles, as if they were discussing a casual Sunday afternoon, not a mission with high stakes. He leaned back, his hands resting behind his head.

Steve's brow furrowed in response, his worry deepening. His jaw clenched slightly as his mind ran through all the possibilities. It had been hours since Sam had gone in, and radio silence was never a good thing.

"Relax, Steve. It's only been 12 hours." James' tone was calm, borderline dismissive. "He's gotta earn their trust before he learns anything. That's gonna take time."

Steve's gaze shifted toward the window, the sunlight flickering through the partially drawn blinds. His gut told him not to worry, that Sam was more than capable, but experience had taught him that things could go wrong at any moment.

"He should've at least checked in," Steve muttered, almost to himself.

James sat up a little, finally taking Steve's worry seriously. He let out a breath, dropping his feet from the desk and leaning forward. "Look, Sam's smart. You know that. He's not going to risk blowing his cover just to make us feel better."

Steve nodded, though the tension in his shoulders remained. "I just don't like not knowing."

James smirked. "Yeah, I know. Control freak."

Steve shot him a look, but it was softened by the hint of a smile. "You're one to talk."

James shrugged. "Difference is, I trust the guy. Sam's got this. He'll check in when he can."

Silence settled between them for a moment, both men lost in their own thoughts. Steve's eyes lingered on the phone on the desk, willing it to ring, while James leaned back again, his confidence in Sam unwavering.

"He'll be fine, Steve," James said quietly, his voice firm. "We've been through worse."

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Rio stood in front of the desk, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides. The air in the room felt heavier than usual, thick with the tension that always came when standing before them. The boss. Their gaze was fixed on him, unblinking, as if they could see right through the calm exterior he tried to maintain.

"Sam, head dealer for the Barnes crew, he's here," Rio said, his voice steady despite the weight pressing down on him.

The boss leaned back in their chair, slowly rocking it back and forth. Their eyes narrowed slightly, but a smile began to pull at their lips. "Hm. Care to explain to me why he's here?"

Rio swallowed, shifting his weight as his nerves got the better of him. "Barnes sent him here. My guess? Hoping he can earn his way in. Feed back information."

For a long moment, there was silence. The boss's eyes drifted down to the desk in front of them, fingers tapping lightly against its surface as the chair continued to rock. Then, as if amused, the smile on their lips widened. "Perfect. Set him up."

Rio's brow furrowed as he took a step closer, his caution overriding the instinct to obey immediately. "You sure about this? It could make us look vulnerable, like we're letting them in too easy."

The boss's eyes snapped up to him, the sharpness in their gaze freezing him in place. Their voice, now dripping with barely restrained fury, cut through the air. "Did I say question my decision, Rio?"

Rio stiffened, his heartbeat spiking as they rose slightly from their chair, their frustration echoing in every syllable. "You fucked up once already. Don't make me remind you who I am!"

A shiver ran up his spine, the words hitting like a punch. He clenched his jaw, his eyes darting down to the floor in submission. "Yes ma'am," he murmured, almost reflexively, not daring to look her in the eyes.

She settled back into her chair, exhaling slowly as if she hadn't just rattled him to the core. "The best way to take them out...is from the inside," she said, her voice once again cool and controlled, the smile creeping back. "And Sam? He's the perfect piece for that."

Rio hesitated for a split second, then forced a tight, submissive smile of his own. He nodded, even though every fiber of his being screamed at him that this could blow up in their faces. "Yes ma'am," he repeated, this time with more resolve. He couldn't risk showing weakness again.

"Good." She waved a dismissive hand, the conversation clearly over. "Now go make it happen."

Rio turned on his heel, the tension in his body refusing to release as he made his way to the door. His mind buzzed with worry, but he knew better than to question her again.

As he stepped out of the room, he glanced back, catching one last look at the boss. Her smile was gone, replaced by the calculating, cold expression he was all too familiar with. She knew exactly what she was doing.

And God help them all if she was wrong.